


Small, But Certain, Happiness

by foxseal



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxseal/pseuds/foxseal
Summary: Minhyun wants to come home to a spotless apartment. Unfortunately, Seongwoo's efforts don't live up to his expectations.





	Small, But Certain, Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/suksoji/status/1043334293353783297) tweet! Title of fic from a song by Standing Egg of the same name.
> 
> This was written at 2am during a desperate need for a quick onghwang fix. Thank you for giving it a shot !!!

 

Minhyun usually tries very, very hard to be a patient person.  

But sometimes, his conscious effort can only go so far. 

The three-day conference-slash-networking event out of town has wrung Minhyun dry of both his enthusiasm and friendliness. That, coupled with having the editor in chief constantly chasing him for the manuscripts he's supposed to finish editing, makes it a near miraculous feat for Minhyun to maintain coherent enough e-mail replies to come across as calm and rational. In reality, he's become a cranky, irritable mess that grows more restless by the second.

It doesn't help Minhyun's mood knowing that had someone else from the company gone to the event in his place, he could’ve spent the national long-weekend cosy at home with Seongwoo. Yet here he is, resigned to sleeping in hotel beds too big for him alone and to eat breakfast in unwelcome solitude. 

The end couldn't have come sooner. As soon as he’s signed off on the last event of the conference, Minhyun hightails out of the venue like he’s never escaped before. Right now, he wants nothing more than to be back home and unwind with the stress-relieving lemongrass scent he bought a week ago; stretch out his legs with a mug of hot chocolate on the couch and that Nabokov book he’s still reading; eat a warm dinner; take a shower and maybe make out with his boyfriend for a bit, before calling it a night. And knowing Seongwoo’s generosity and perceptiveness, there may even be a back massage involved before bed, if Minhyun whines enough. The thought of Seongwoo’s strong, deft fingers working out the knots in his back gets Minhyun keyed up enough that it takes all his willpower to keep himself from speeding on the highway.

Unfortunately, realities so often disappoint.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh. Hi, Hyun,” greets Seongwoo from where he’s sprawled across the sofa when Minhyun swings the door open, wincing at the TV blaring out some awful screaming noises—definitely a horror movie. On the floor between the sofa and the rug, a couple of empty cans and a bunch of snack wrappers are strewn around, and from his vantage point Minhyun can see Seongwoo balancing both an ice cream tub and a pizza box on his stomach. If only that’s the end of it—only two steps further inside, Minhyun is greeted by the sight of their overflowing laundry basket by the bathroom door adjacent to the living room where some clothes that don’t manage to fit lie neglected on the floor. 

Gone is the scent of lemongrass he’s looked forward to with such desperation—instead he smells the grease of junk food and the acridity of cheap canned beer that make him feel unclean just by being in close proximity of them.

“Seongwoo, what the—“

“Hey, why are you still standing there? Come ‘ere and sit, I’m having a night in. This long weekend’s been great.” 

He raises the hand that’s clutching a spoon to wave him over. Minhyun realises in horror that it’s got a dollop of chocolate ice cream on it. 

And Seongwoo is swinging said spoon around. Enthusiastically.

“Seongwoo,” Minhyun drops his bag in alarm. “Please don’t—"

It’s like a video played in slow-motion; the dollop of ice cream slips off the metal surface, freefalls, _down, down, down_ —and lands on the pristine white fur rug.

The very same white fur rug Minhyun’s worked so hard to keep spotless. Ever since they moved in all those years ago. 

“Oh, shit,” curses Seongwoo as Minhyun grabs at his hair silently, biting back a scream. With the spoon now in his mouth and ice cream tub placed on the floor next to the rug, Seongwoo scrambles off the couch haphazardly. “Wait, leeeet me get a wet phissue.”

When the words register, Minhyun shakes his head in panic. “No wait, you can’t get rid of the stain like—“  

Too late—Seongwoo is already scrubbing at the spot with a wet wipe he’s pulled out from god-knows-where and, like Minhyun’s every nightmare coming true, only manages to smear the stain even more. 

“—that.” 

Seongwoo blinks down at the mess he’s made, then looks up with a sheepish smile. “Oops, sorry. Probably should have used a rag? But they’re all dirty in the kitchen, so…"

“Oh my god, the _kitchen_ ,” he whispers in horror. 

“Hey, Hyun!"

If Minhyun thinks his migraine can’t get any worse, the sight he’s met with proves him very, very wrong. He takes one look at the sink overflowing with filthy dishes, the two stained pots still sitting on the burners (one of them dripping what looks like instant bolognaise sauce onto the glass surface) and presses a finger to his temple. _Patience, Minhyun, patience is a virtue._

At that very moment that one of the plates on top of the pile decides to slide off, sending the massive stack of cutlery crashing down onto the countertops— 

—and with it, Minhyun feels the last of his patience snap off. 

He turns around and walks slowly towards his boyfriend, eventually backing him up against the kitchen wall. He crosses his arms and sets his mouth in a tight line. 

“Ong Seongwoo.”

“ _Woah_ , what’s with the serious tone? I’m right here,” he chuckles, tilting his head in an innocent and awfully oblivious manner. “What’s up, babe? 

“What have you been doing all day?” 

“Uh, well, I went for a morning jog, finished some errands, got myself some snacks… pretty much binge-watched the drama episodes we queued up ‘cause I thought, eh, when else am I going to get a long weekend or time off like this—“ 

“So. Just because it’s your time off, you thought you could just pig around like this?” 

“What? I didn’t pig around…”

“Ah, of course, you were just _having fun_.” As he takes a step closer, Minhyun’s lips are twisted upwards in a sardonic smile, but his eyes are frosty enough to make Seongwoo shiver a little in his spot. “Seeing as I just got back from a business trip, don’t you think I also deserve some fun?” 

Seongwoo grins. “Finally, I was wondering when you’d give me at least a hello kiss—"

“Nope,” Minhyun slaps Seongwoo’s hand away, not even budging when he yelps in reply. “Your fingers are greasy. No touching for 24 hours.”

“24 hours?! I can just clean my hand right now!” He’s posed as if to make for the bathroom, but then pauses—and Minhyun can practically see the proverbial lightbulb light up above Seongwoo’s head as he brings his fingers to his mouth and proceeds to lick them one by one. 

Minhyun closes his eyes and thinks of his happy place. 

“I take it back. No touching for 48 hours.”

“Aw, come on Minhyunnie, what’s a little spit, you had no problem when I came on your—“

“Want to make that a week?” 

“No, please! I was joking, okay? Usually you’d just laugh it off.” Seongwoo pouts but today Minhyun’s heart is susceptible to no emotional pleading, no matter how adorable. “You must be really mad.”

“Mad? No, love.” He folds a napkin and places it on the countertop near the sink. It sits there in stark contrast to its messy surroundings. It looks threatening. Perfect. “I’m not _angry_. Just a little disappointed that you have so little interest in making our home comfortable.”

“No, no. You’re definitely mad. You haven’t even taken your shoes off.” 

“At least I’ll do that part myself. Taking my shoes off, and everything else after that.” Minhyun can’t help but scowl when he surveys the kitchen again. “It’s much easier than counting on someone else to help, anyway.”

“Wait,” Seongwoo calls out when Minhyun heads off in the direction of their room. “Where are you going?” 

“Gonna take a shower.”

“Let me join you—I haven’t taken one yet, either.” 

“No, Seongwoo,” snaps Minhyun, “Because if you feel that you’re not responsible for helping out around the house, that all the cleaning is _my_ job, then the least you could do is leave me to do it alone.” 

The door to their bedroom slams closed, and for once, Seongwoo remains quiet. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minhyun comes out of the shower feeling guilty for his sharp tone earlier—he’s not one to snap, usually choosing to stew in his own frustrations until the worst of it ebbs away and he’s able to talk the matter out with more rationality. The hectic week he’s been having has just piled so much on his plate that his tolerance for excuses, bullshit or otherwise, has been worn extremely thin. 

Meaning to apologise, he pads over to the kitchen in his bathrobe, mulling over the words he wants to say to Seongwoo _(I had a rough day at work, sorry I took it out on you, next time just please don’t eat ice cream while you’re lying down)_  when his thoughts are interrupted by the smell of something burning.

“Seongwoo?” Alarmed, he turns the corner sharply in the direction of the kitchen. There are wisps of smoke from the doorway. “Seongwoo! Oh my god, are you okay?”

His knees nearly buckle under the relief that floods him when he sees Seongwoo standing in the middle of the kitchen unharmed—but instead he lets out a soft laughter as he observes his boyfriend batting away the smoke pouring out of the oven with a hand towel. 

“I tried cooking dinner,” Seongwoo says, words mumbled as he tries (in vain) to fight off the biggest pout from taking permanent residence on his face. “I really tried but… I swear I just left the pasta to cook for like ten minutes…”

“Not on the highest heat setting, you shouldn’t, you big dummy,” Minhyun lets out a big sigh, more out of fondness than exasperation, as he surveys the burnt remains of food in the tray Seongwoo took out. “More work for me now, I guess." 

Minhyun expects a similarly sarcastic retort, or outright whining, but instead he gets silence and a frown that only gets deeper the longer Seongwoo spends staring at the pan. 

A little thrown aback by the reaction, Minhyun realises with sudden clarity that he’s been a little unfair to Seongwoo— to his boyfriend whose winning quality is his eagerness to please those he loves, and whose list of actions only consists of well-intended ones. To accuse him of otherwise out of misdirected anger must have hurt him greatly.

Minhyun sighs and steps closer. “Come here.” 

Seongwoo trips over the kitchen mat in his haste, ending up literally _falling into_ Minhyun’s arms—which is just as well, because he gets rewarded with a surprised laugh and the close proximity to freshly-soaped skin. 

“Minhyunnie, I swear, I’ll buy you a new pan.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“And a white rug, spotless clean.” 

“Or you can just put that one in the wash..." 

“I’ll give you a massage.”

“Mmm. Sounds tempting.”

“I’ll make love to you passionately every night from now on.”

“Every night? I’d rather get some sleep.”

“Minhyun.” Seongwoo pulls back and tugs at his damp hair strands gently, as if afraid Minhyun’s attention would be piqued elsewhere in the middle of his speech. “I’m… really sorry. If I made it seem like I don’t care enough.”  

Minhyun leans in to press a hard kiss on Seongwoo’s lips—the first in many days, and Minhyun has to kick himself to actually pull away and let Seongwoo breathe. 

“Don’t be. I’m sorry that I accused you of that—I know you care. I just had a lot on my plate lately and I guess I took it out on you.” He caresses Seongwoo’s arms gently, smiling apologetically. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s alright, you were well within your right to be annoyed. I mean,” Seongwoo groans. “I _did_  leave a whole week’s worth of chores untended… ruining my own potentially-hot reunion date night. Stupid Seongwoo.”

“Well hold on now, not _all_ hope is lost,” Minhyun smiles, and his next words come in almost a purr. “How about some passionate love making _after_ chores?”

Seongwoo lets out a sad noise from the back of his throat, but says with a hint of hope, “You... don't want to be left alone?”

“Wouldn't be here if I wanted that, would I?”

“So no 48 hours ban?”

Minhyun breaks into laughter because his chest feels so warm, so _full;_ almost overspilling past its capacity to feel contentment and affection for Seongwoo. Even amongst the physical manifestation of his worst kitchen nightmares, Minhyun feels like he has come back home—and it’s then that he realises that to him, home is a person, and never a place.

“It’s cute how you think I can survive that long without you.”

Seongwoo. Seongwoo is his home.

 

Needless to say, they end up spending less time cleaning the apartment and more time soiling the bed—and other selected surfaces. 

 

  


End file.
